Duncan x Reader

Chapter three: Part one (lemon warning)

The knocking on your front door is loud. Three taps and then two, followed by a slow beat that you don't quite recognize straight away. You slip off the sofa and drift down the hall, throwing open the door to a familiar shock of messy, black and green hair. 'Hey -.' 'Why didn't you tell me?' Duncan looks angry. His jaw is wound tight, lips pursed and pressed together, but the anger doesn't quite make it to his eyes. It dies in his iris' where it's drowned by concern. 'Tell you what?' You swallow and step aside, letting him stride down the hallway and into the kitchen. It's a little familiar, hurrying after him, catching him leaning against the sink when you finally round the door. Duncan cocks his head, eyes glued to yours as he sighs. 'Tell me that Trent is fucking about with Gwen?' 'I – uh.' The colour drains from his face.'You didn't know?' 'Yeah... We're, um, we're on a break.' Duncan's head drops into his hands. He rubs his eyes, fingertips digging into tender flesh and then peeks from over them. He can't stay angry, not when you're looking at him like that. 'Why didn't you tell me?' You shrug. There's tears forming in your eyes, you can feel it. 'Fuck, Princess. Come here.' Pushing off the sink, he wraps you up forcing you against his chest. His chin rests on the top of your head, his hands clinging to his own elbows as he forms a protective circle around you with his body. 'You should have told me.' As soon as your cheek meets the hard muscle of his chest, you start to cry. Your tears drip from your chin and roll down the leather of his jacket only to collect in the wrinkles that litter it's surface. 'Want me to go beat the shit out of him?' He prises you from him and holds you back at arms length. 'I'm bigger. I bet I could give him a run for his money.' Raising his eyebrows, he doesn't drop them again until a smile cracks your lips. 'You'd lose.' You giggle, wiping at the corners of your eyes, sleeves quickly becoming soaked. 'I'd... Yeah, but it would be with honour.' You roll your eyes.

He huffs. 'Spoil sport. You wanna talk about it, or?'

'No – I -.'

Duncan reaches into his jacket pocket, removing a small plastic baggie. 'Not even if I offer to share?' He shakes it making the small bud inside shimmy from side to side, grinning as he does.

'You don't even smoke any more...'

'If you don't want it, I can always find someone else to get high with.'

'Shut up.' You shake your head, but reach for the bag anyway, skimming a finger along the inside of the zip-lock to pop it open. 'Strawberry Sherbet?'

He chews the inside of his cheek. 'It's your favourite, right?'

'It was.'

'Was?' Drifting to the sofa, Duncan begins to unpack his pockets. He throws an assortment of recycled skins, a scuffed grinder and pack of filters to the coffee table before throwing himself to down too.

You join him, tucking your knees up to your chest as you watch him work. He's got a trained hand, deftly snatching the baggie from between your fingers as he sets to work. 'Haven't smoked for a while...'

He chuckles. 'Trent get a stick up his ass about it?'

'Something like that.' You crane to peer over his shoulder watching as he grinds down the bud and begins to roll. 'You?'

He shrugs. 'Not the same without you.' then, chuckles when he catches your mouth drop open slightly. 'You know, I would have stopped everyone hanging out with them if I'd of known.'

You sit back on your haunches. 'They were your friends before I was -.'

'Doesn't matter. It's a matter of principle.' He licks the skin, tongue peaking just past his teeth before offering it out to you. 'Mouth's dry.'

Sticking your tongue out, you let him move the paper across the muscle almost going cross-eyed as you try and watch.

'You want first pull?' Twisting the skin, he offers out the blunt.